


What If...?

by LongLostMarbles



Category: Study Series - Maria V. Snyder
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-05 23:09:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17928170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LongLostMarbles/pseuds/LongLostMarbles
Summary: We all know the story of what happened when Yelena was kidnapped as a young child, leaving her brother Leif behind. However, what would have happened if it had Leif who was kidnapped instead? For a start, there would be a lot more food involved...





	1. Leif Meets Valek

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy it! I wrote this a little while ago as a joke but it became a fun little project so who knows ... maybe I'll write more?

"Put it out!”

Leif desperately tried to put the fire out, his eyebrows and lashes being singed by the increasing heat. He struggled against the strong grip of General Brazell, but it made little difference. Failing to create moisture in his mouth, he tried blowing at the fire – perhaps he could put it out – but he felt a sharp pain around the back of his head.

“Not like that you idiot! With your mind!”

The clang of metal brought Leif out of his thoughts. He looked up to see two guards unlocking his cell, his heart skipping a beat. Today was the day. He was ready – he had been trapped in the Commander's prison for over a year. He slowly got up but his legs, weak from lack of exercise and food, shook beneath him and he fell to the ground. The guards pulled him up sharply and started to lead him through the prison. He could hear others calling out around him.

“You're dead, rat!”

“Take me! I want to die too!”

As the guards lead Leif through the corridors, he caught a waft of a delicious smell – roast pork and vegetables. The smell of it made his stomach growl and he quietly berated it. After all, he was going to die. The Commander wouldn't waste food on his prisoners. He longed for the succulent foods that General Brazell had served – the rich flavours, the moist and tender meats. He was about to start reminiscing about the puddings when they arrived at a wide pair of doors – intricate carvings barely visible anymore. These didn't lead to the gallows, did they? As the doors were pushed open and an office was revealed, he suddenly realised that whilst salivating over food, they had changed direction and lead him to this office. He shivered, remembering the stories that he had heard in the prison. Some people were taken to a judge who would listen to their last confession before the execution.

Leif glanced up at the room in front of him. The floor, covered with piles of paper, was a labyrinth that led to a large desk on the far side of the office. The large glass windows allowed light to stream in and he squinted in the bright light – something he hadn't seen for seasons. Sitting at the desk, dressed in black trousers and a black shirt, was a man. His face was cold, void of any emotion, sending a shiver down Leif's spine. The man's shoulder-length hair almost covered the red diamonds stitched on his shirt – the uniform of an advisor. With sudden realisation, Leif took a small step back. This must be Valek. The Commander's advisor, closest friend and Ixia's most deadly assassin. Leif met Valek's gaze, his brilliant sapphire eyes widening in surprise as he saw Leif.

“A young man? The next prisoner to be executed is a young man? I thought it was that old hag from MD-2.”

Leif shuddered at the word executed and stared at the floor, trying to avoid notice. A small part of him, despite his fear, wondered whether he would be fed before the execution. However, he quickly pushed this thought away. Now was not the time to be thinking about food. Valek shrugged and stood gracefully.

“I guess I should have taken the time to read your dossier. You're dismissed.”

He waved his hand at the guards who nodded and retreated from the room, pulling the doors behind them with a loud clatter. Valek muttered something to himself and then perched on the front of his desk. Leif stood there silently, his fingers twitching nervously. Looking at Valek's calm and blank composure, Leif was suddenly aware of the dirt that covered him head to toe, and the way his hair fell in lank, greasy strands. Keeping his gaze trained on the floor, Leif heard Valek hum slightly to himself.

“Leif, today may be your lucky day.”

They were going to feed him some of that pork? No, that was probably for the Commander and his generals. He bit back a question – it was an important lesson Leif had learned during his dungeon stay, to stay quiet and respectful. Valek watched him for a moment and scribbled a note in the dossier that he picked up from his desk.

“Well-behaved and respectful. You're starting to look like a good candidate.”

Leif started pacing slightly on the spot, unable to stand still, the chains around his wrists clinking together and the cuffs chaffing his already raw skin. He looked around the room again. Half-burnt candles were dotted around the room, the surrounding papers occasionally dotted with black from near misses with the flame. Valek obviously worked late into the night – of course he would, he was an assassin. Assassins don't complete their jobs during daylight. Or do they? That would be when no-one was expecting to suddenly be killed … but then would they expect to be killed at night? Leif would have continued with his thoughts but Valek snapped the dossier shut, the noise making Leif jump slightly. Why was it taking so long for them to kill him?

“You've been tried and found guilty of murdering General Brazell's only son, Reyad. That explains why he's been unusually interested in the execution schedule recently, and why he's here, at the castle.”

Leif stopped pacing at Brazell's name and a cold sweat started to form on his back. He tried to slow his breathing, reminding himself that he would soon be out of Brazell's reach altogether. When he calmed slightly, he realised his fists were clenched by his sides. Slowly, he unclenched them, small semi-circles lined his palm.

“I suppose you're going to protest the conviction. Claim you were framed or killed him in self-defence.”

Leif shook his head. “No, sir. I killed him.” It was a mere whisper – all he could manage with his unused vocal cords. Valek laughed suddenly, causing Leif to flinch with surprise.

“This may work out better than I'd planned. Leif, I'm offering you a choice.”

I choose the pork! Leif thought desperately. The smell had permeated into the room and was amazing!

“You can either be Commander Ambrose's new food taster, or you can be executed. The Commander's last taster died recently and we need to fill the position.”

Leif gaped at him. Valek had to be joking – trying to get a laugh and make him hopeful before sending him off to his fate – a one-way ticket to the gallows. Yet, what if he was serious. The food! He would taste some of the finest dishes there were – MD-6's chief was renowned across the districts. He was apparently some young prodigy that had originally worked for the King.

“A fool would refuse the opportunity to taste some of the land's finest food…” Leif murmured, the thought of food making his stomach growl. Grewal and water was by no means a suitable meal. Where was the flavour!?

Valek raised an eyebrow, “Well, it's a lifetime position. The training can be brutal. After all, how can you identify a poison without knowing what it tastes like? You'll get a room in the castle, but you'll spend most of your time with the Commander. No days off. No wife or children. Some prisoners chose execution instead. At least then they know exactly when they're going to die, rather than guessing if it's going to come with the next bite.”

Leif stood there in shock. Valek was being serious. This day had just got instantly better. He started off ready to die and now he was being offered a job – to taste food. How could he have got so lucky! He nodded readily.

Valek scribbled a note on a piece of paper and studied Leif again. “So you'll do it?”

This time it was for Leif to smile. “Hell yeah.”


	2. The Brandy Scene

Leif followed Valek back to their suite, wobbling slightly. They passed Valek's security measures around the door and Valek immediately slipped off his uniform jacket, throwing it onto the table.

“Sit. We need to talk,” he commanded, pointing to a nearby chair.

Leif nodded and half-sat, half-fell into the chair, his legs dangling over the edge. He watched Valek as he paced the room, taking in his sleeveless undershirt and formfitting black pants. He imaged running his hands over Valek's long ropey muscles trying to ease the tension, which inevitably almost started a giggling fit. Brandy flowed through his blood, quickening his pulse and making him giddy.

“Two things were very wrong tonight,” Valek said.

Yeah. The fact that someone can look that good in dress uniform, and the meat of course. Awfully overdone. Almost charcoal, Leif thought to himself before realizing this wasn't what Valek meant. Had Valek noticed him fall asleep?

“Oh come on. I only dozed for a minute.”

Valek shot him a quizzical look, “No, no. You did fine. I meant about the meeting; the Generals.” He continued the pace, and Leif's eyes followed him, taking in every detail hungrily. “First, Brazell seemed unusually happy about the change in successor and the Sitian delegation. He's always wanted a trade treaty, but he usually exercises a more delicate approach. And second, there was a magician in the room.”

“What?” Leif's breath stuck in his throat. Had he been discovered?

“Magic. Very subtle, from a trained professional. I only felt it once, a brief touch, but I couldn't pinpoint the source. But the magician had to be in the room, or I wouldn't have felt it.”

“When?”

“During Tesso's long-winded dissertation about corn.” Valek's posture had relaxed a little as if the act of talking out a problem helped him deal with it. “About the same time your snoring could be heard halfway across the room.”

“Ha!” Leif pouted. “You were so stiff at that meeting I thought rigor mortis had set in.”

Valek snorted with amusement. “I doubt you could have looked any better sitting in that uncomfortable dress uniform all night. I imagine Dilana sprayed on extra starch with malicious glee.”

He grew serious again, his smile fading as his mind drifted back to his problems. “Do you know Advisor Mogkan? He eyed you most of the evening.”

“I know of him. He was Reyad's primary advisor. They also hunted together.” Leif shuddered slightly at the thought of him. Creepy bastard.

“What's he like?”

“Same kind of vermin as Reyad and Nix,” Leif blurted out before throwing his hand over his mouth, eyes wide. However, it was too late.

Valek studied him for a moment before looking away. “There were a number of new advisers at the meeting. I guess I'll have to check them out one by one. It seems we have a new southern spy with magic abilities.” He sighed. “It never ends.”

Valek collapsed wearily onto the end of the couch, his hands intertwined on his lap.

“If it did, you would be out of a job.” Leif murmured, levering himself out of the chair. Before he could stop himself, he had squeezed behind Valek and started to massage his shoulders. The alcohol had taken complete control of his movements, and the tiny sober section of Leif's brain could do nothing but yell useless admonishments.

Valek stiffened under his touch, and Leif pouted to himself slightly. What did he expect? Leif to strangle him? However, as Leif continued to knead his muscles he relaxed. A comfortable silence fell over them, and Leif's mind was torn between obsessing over Valek or the hog stew that had been served that night. Both were pretty amazing.

“What would you do if suddenly the world was perfect and you had no-one to spy on?” he asked Valek suddenly, curious.

“I'd be bored,” Valek responded, his voice laced with amusement.

“No, come on. Seriously. A change in profession.” Leif dug his thumbs into the base of Valek's neck and tilted his head slightly in thought. “A fire dancer?”

A rush of warmth radiated as the brandy rushed through his blood. He could imagine Valek as a fire dancer, the gracefulness in his movement, the red and orange costumes setting off his deep blue eyes.

“No. An arms teacher?”

“No. It's a perfect world. No weapons allowed.” Leif moved his hands down his back, feeling the firm muscle and inwardly bemoaning his own physique. “How about a scholar? You've read all these books lying around, haven't you? Or are they just to make it difficult for someone to sneak in?” Even with the cleared pathways, Leif still managed to trip over the piles on occasion and Valek had had to start making the paths wider and wider to compensate for Leif's clumsiness.

“Books serve me in so many ways. But I doubt your perfect society would need a scholar on murder.”

Leif paused for a moment, considering. “No. Definitely not.”

“A sculptor? I could carve extravagant statues. We could redecorate the castle and liven things up. How about you?”

Leif was lost in thought, considering what statues Valek would carve. One of him perhaps? He could model for him in the evenings. After all, he was ravishingly handsome. A statue of Leif would be the pièce de résistance of the castle, there was no doubt about it. He glanced down in surprise as he realised Valek had spoken to him.

“Leif? What would you do in your perfect society?”

“Acrobatics.” And eat all the food he could, not sharing with anyone. He surprised himself slightly with his answer, he thought he had left acrobatics behind with the amulet, but obviously his excursion through the trees had re-woken his desire.

“An acrobat. Of course! Well, that explains a lot.” Valek exclaimed.

Aroused by his contact with Valek's sculpted body, Leif slid his hands around his stomach. Reyad be damned, Leif thought to himself. The brandy had released him past fear. He was free, for now. Fumbling, he started to unfasten Valek's pants. Grabbing his wrists and holding them firmly, Valek stopped Leif before he could do anything else. “Leif. You're drunk.” His voice was hoarse and his face flushed slightly.

Releasing his hands, Valek stood and Leif let out a small cry of surprise as Valek tried to lift him off the sofa. Valek grunted slightly and decided to simply pull one arm over his shoulder, supporting Leif towards his bedroom. They had reached the bedroom when Leif spoke, “I can stand. Let go.”

With a raised eyebrow, Valek let go of Leif and he stood there, swaying slightly on his feet. Seconds later, he fell onto the bed face-first, letting out a muffled grunt into the blanket. Valek sighed and shook his head, before moving Leif so that he was properly on the bed and not dangling half-off.

“Get some sleep, Leif.” Valek said softly, before leaving the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Leif, all he wanted to do was have some love and attention from Valek! Hope you enjoyed it! Would love any feedback so please leave a comment if you have a moment :)


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